98. Prelude

Tick ​​tock tick…

In the gloomy and damp dungeon, there exists a darkness so profound that it appears capable of engulfing everything.

"Stella...Stella..."

A young man, appearing to be in his twenties, huddled in the corner of a dim dungeon, muttering to himself. His eyes were lackluster, his face pallid, eye sockets sunken, and his body adorned in tattered attire. His slender frame resembled a candle in the wind, swaying with the slightest breeze, with only a head of gray-green hair standing out conspicuously.

Dinner time arrived, and some decaying leaf cabbage and fly-infested steamed buns were scattered haphazardly in the center of the dungeon. However, the boy paid no heed to the hunger gnawing at his stomach, instead, he continued chanting a name repeatedly. Occasionally, a few tears trickled down from his red eyes.

"Hey! Don't you want to eat?"

The slave in the same cell grabbed the food on the ground and stuffed it into his mouth, all the while glancing at the young man in the corner before asking.

"Newcomer?"

A raspy male voice emanated from the darkness, and a tall man emerged, tracing the sound. Illuminated by the faint moonlight seeping through the cracks in the wall, one could vaguely discern a man nearing forty. His eyes exuded calmness, and he didn't bear the typical signs of sluggishness and despair seen in ordinary slaves.

"Ahem~ My name is Corey. I was captured not long ago."

Corey scratched his head in embarrassment and reluctantly handed over the food in his hand.

"Are you hungry? I can give you these..."

"Hey~ I can't eat these garbage things, so I'll give them to you."

The middle-aged man did not accept it, but sneered disdainfully.

"What's wrong with him? He's so thin. Why doesn't he eat anything?"

Corey didn't immediately tend to the food in his hand. Instead, he pointed at the young man with gray-green hair in the corner and asked doubtfully.

"Don't worry about this guy," the middle-aged man glanced at the grey-green young man who was still mumbling to himself, a mocking arc at the corner of his mouth. "This guy's name is Tesoro, it seems like five years ago, oh no, who came here six years ago. When he first came here, he clamored all day long that he wanted to find a woman named 'Stella'."

"Hey! Wanna take a wild guess what happened in the end?"

The middle-aged strong man asked Corey in a wicked manner.

"I don't know, that woman must be dead, or else he wouldn't be like this."

Corey guessed with some uncertainty.

"Bingo! You got it right. The woman named 'Stella' was bitten to death by a wild beast in the Celestial Dragons' arena five years ago. Since then, this guy has turned into this crazed individual."

It seemed that a painful memory had been stirred. The originally lackluster eyes of Tesoro, huddled in the corner, fluctuated slightly, revealing a hint of paranoia and madness in his gaze.

"Furthermore, I am a slave in the arena, and I happened to witness this scene. I saw this guy go from being spirited at the beginning to becoming numb and sluggish now."

As he spoke, the middle-aged man cursed angrily, whether he was berating Tesoro for his foolishness or condemning the cruelty of the Celestial Dragons.

After hearing about Tesoro's experience, Corey felt pity and contemplated going over to comfort him. However, upon looking at Tesoro, who emitted an air of "no strangers" and had a stomach persistently growling, he hesitated for a moment. After that brief pause, he sat down cross-legged, picked up the food from the floor, and resumed devouring.

"Kid, finish your meal and get to bed. Tomorrow morning, there'll be heavy labor waiting for you, unlike me... hehe..."

"What are you doing in the arena?"

Corey was a little curious when he heard this. The middle-aged man had mentioned that he was a slave in the arena before.

"Haha, what else can we do in the arena? Of course, we can kill each other for the amusement of those damn Celestial Dragons!"

After finishing speaking, the middle-aged man found a haystack and lay down. The arena might sound exhilarating and like a dream place for all men, but... Mariejois's arena was only for those tedious Celestial Dragons, merely adding a touch of amusement to the brutal slaughterhouse.

The middle-aged man not only has to confront different slaves as opponents every day, but at times, one of the Celestial Dragons might show interest in a human-animal combat. It can be said that he walks on the edge of death every day. He doesn't have the luxury of time or energy to wallow in self-pity like Tesoro, even though his son and even his wife perished at the hands of the Celestial Dragons.

There is hope only when you are alive...

After a while, the sound of a man's snoring echoed from the dungeon, and Corey quickly concluded his battle with the food. He gazed at the dungeon bars, his eyes carrying a somewhat hollow look.

Freedom?

Corey was a bit distracted. Being young, he didn't harbor an unforgettable hatred for the Celestial Dragons. His life as a slave was relatively short, only a few days, and he didn't harbor much desire for the freedom that others spoke of.

"Perhaps it would be nice to spend your life here like this..."

Corey thought with some self-deprecation that, anyway, for him, who had no friends, it would be the same wherever he went. Mariejois could still provide him with a bite to eat, and maybe he could also encounter the legendary world nobles, Celestial Dragons.

Corey's hometown is in the West Blue, a sea area where gang culture is prevalent. He was captured on a slave ship and sold here. Like most ordinary people in the pirate world, he has never seen real Celestial Dragons, only having a vague understanding of them from others' accounts. Some people hate them, some yearn for them, and some are dismissive of them.

Suddenly, just as Corey was lost in thought, a burst of flame forced its way into his field of vision, previously swallowed by darkness. The fire spread faster and faster, as if it was on the verge of breaking the night and becoming the herald of dawn!

Corey suddenly woke up, jumped up from the ground, and shouted loudly.

"It's burning! Has Mariejois been invaded?"

Corey found it a bit unbelievable. Among the people of the world, Mariejois was considered the abode of the descendants of the God of Creation. How could anyone invade this so-called holy land?

"Um?"

The middle-aged man, who had just fallen asleep, was roused by Corey's call. He subconsciously surveyed his surroundings, and his attention was swiftly captured by the distant flames.

Can go out...

A hint of resentment flickered in the middle-aged man's eyes. He clenched his outstretched palms tightly, large veins protruding on his arms. His eyes reddened, and his body shook uncontrollably.

As if he had reached some crucial decision, the middle-aged man let out a long sigh, as if a heavy burden had been lifted off his shoulders. Yet, his gaze was directed towards the thick wall, as if peering through the obstruction, staring at a place in Mariejois. The palace, that is... the residence of the Celestial Dragons. 

Tesoro in the corner also exhibited some movement. He flexed his limbs a little stiffly, and there seemed to be a spark of life in his eyes, as if a person had found faith, or perhaps obsession...

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